


Little Red

by notaboutcat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Family Feels, Female Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, POV Original Character, Winchester Sister
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 05:29:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21069665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaboutcat/pseuds/notaboutcat
Summary: What starts as a simple journey to find their father turns into something far greater, as Scarlett Winchester and her brothers are pulled into a mystery far deeper than they imagined. What transpires makes the Winchester's realise that their family isn't normal, even for hunters.





	Little Red

**LITTLE RED**  
CHAPTER ONE  
GENESIS 

In the parking lot beside some gas station in the middle of nowhere, Scarlett Winchester enjoys a rare moment of quiet.

She lies reclined in the backseat of the Impala, waiting on her brother to get them snacks for the journey ahead. Sure, it might be a bad idea to leave herself this vulnerable, with her hands behind her head and her feet reclined out the window to get a bit of sun, while _Duran, Duran _blasts through her headphones. She can almost hear her father doing his Mad-Eye Moody impression – “_constant vigilance!_” – but she has only one headphone in; she would hear if somebody tried to sneak up on her -

The car horn goes off and she nearly falls off her seat in surprise.

“_Son of a bitch!_”

Her brother guffaws from the front seat as he climbs into the car.

“Ugh, die,” she mutters, rubbing her ankles where they had caught on the window in her panic.

“Come on now, kid, you made that too easy,” Dean says, rustling a packet of Jolly Ranchers at her. “Quit your pouting, or you get nada!”

“Die twice.”

“That’s fine with me! I’ll have these and you can just scavenge back there,” he says with a smile, opening the pack and popping one in his mouth. “I’m sure you can find a peanut from 1999.”

Scarlett rolls her eyes. “_Deaaaan_, you are a wonderful big brother and can do no wrong, now can you please give me my candy, you gigantic ass?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He throws the pack to her, which she narrowly catches.

She narrows her eyes at him. “Was that for barging in on you and that girl last night?”

“_Nooo_,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Do you think I’m that petty? I would _never_.”

“Not my fault you didn’t lock the door!”

“Yeah, but I thought you would have learnt to, I don’t know, _knock_?”

“Well, _excuse me_ for wanting to go back to _our_ motel room,” she snaps. “Maybe if you weren’t cheap and got your own room this wouldn’t have happened!”

Dean rolls his eyes. “God, I can’t wait for dad to get back.”

“Me too, maybe then you’ll go back to her place and I won’t have to use eye-bleach.”

“_Ha, ha,”_ Dean deadpans, “Speaking of dad, you haven’t heard anything from him?”

The mention of her father makes Scarlett press her lips together in a thin line. She had been with her father in Jericho, California about two weeks ago tracking a potential lead. That is, until he told her to pack her bag because she was going to New Orleans to see her brother.

This didn't surprise her. Her father has sent her away during a case before, to her brother or to friends like Pastor Jim, because he had either "errands" to run or a different lead he wanted to follow. It was nothing out of the ordinary.

His behaviour in the days leading up to his sending her away, however, _was_.

Now, Scarlett would be the first person to admit that her dad could get…_hyper-focused_ at times. When he gets a lead, he pours all his energy into researching it. It’s actually kind of impressive. She assumes that’s what those teachers in high school were talking about when they rattled on about a “good work ethic” and all that bullshit to her.

(You know, when she actually bothered to turn up to school.)

But, this time it felt different. The hyper-fixation was still there, but her father seemed to grow more manic as the days went on. She had tried to get an explanation out of him, to no avail. He just rattled off something about a lead that he would tell her more about when he knew more. It worried her , it worries her still, but her dad knows what he’s doing, no matter how strange he acts.

She didn’t press and when he sent her away, she went willingly, because he knows what he’s doing.

He does. He _does_.

“Red? You still with me?”

Her brother’s voice jolts her out of her thoughts. “Sorry, just thinking,” she mutters. “Uh, no, I haven’t. What about you?”

“No, but I’m not worried,” he shrugs, sounding unconcerned. “So we get a couple days of radio silence, no big deal. Knowing dad, he’ll probably turn up at the motel in a few days and give me shit about not keeping the car tidy.”

She wonders if he’s being completely sincere about that. She doesn’t ask.

“I’m still surprised he let you take the car,” she says, trying to sound as unconcerned as he is.

“Hey!” he exclaims. “I’m twenty-six, I can handle a little responsibility.”

“Well, at least half of that statement is true.”

“You know, I could easily let you walk,” Dean says, glancing at her in the rear-view mirror and quirking his eyebrow. “Or better yet, get you to take the bus.”

“You’d miss my company.”

“Like a hole in the head, Red.”

The smirk on his face quickly drops as Scarlett throws a balled up pair of dirty socks at the back of his head. “Jesus, you’re disgusting!” He lets out a noise of disgust and throws them back at her. “I swear, if you leave the back of my car a mess-“

“Oh, it’s your car now?”

“Yeah, it is, so unless you want to walk, you better clean up any other smelly-ass socks or crap you’ve left back there!” he exclaims.

Scarlett rolls her eyes, holding in a laugh. For all the macho bravado her big brother puts on, he’s very particular about his space being neat and tidy. “Alright, neat freak, keep your hair on.”

“Neat freak?” Dean mutters as he starts the car. “Just because I’m not a giant slob like you--“

“Oh my god!” Scarlett exclaims. “This is why we need to have different motel rooms, because if I have to hear you bitch about me leaving clothes on the floor anymore, I will start screaming!”

“Well, maybe you need to stop leaving clothes on the floor then!”

Scarlett huffs and puts her headphones back in, turning her music back on. When she glances back up at the rear-view mirror, Dean pouts mockingly at her. She responds by sticking her tongue out at him.

Maybe that’s why her father is taking some time to himself; he’s just gotten sick of their bickering. That’s what she tells herself, anyway.

The two lapse into a comfortable silence as Dean drives down the empty streets. He had found a potential hunt the night before, which was where they were heading now. That reminds her, she needs to actually call her father and let him know where they are going. He may not answer but at least she would have let him know.

She pulls her backpack up from the floor of the Impala, searching for her cell-phone and letting out an annoyed groan when she finds it, realising that the battery is dead.

“Hey, can I use your phone?” she asks Dean, pulling her headphones from her ears. “I want to call dad and let him know where we’re going.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dean says. Without taking his eyes off the road, he grabs the phone from the passenger seat and throws it back to her. 

She opens the phone and frowns. “Hey, did you see dad was trying to call you?”

“What?”

“There’s a missed call here and a voicemail from like a half hour ago,” she says. “How did you not hear your phone going off?”

“Because I had it on silent!” Dean exclaims, pulling onto the side of the road.

“We’ve literally been waiting on a phone call from dad, why would you leave your phone on silent?” she snaps.

“God, Red, I don’t know, I must have done it by accident,” he snaps back at her. “Just play the damn thing, will you?”

She wants to argue more, it’s right on the tip of her tongue, driven by the anxiety that’s been building up in her stomach since she left her father. The look Dean gives her makes her settle on playing the voicemail.

_“Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. Watch out…for your sister. We're all in danger.”_

_We’re all in danger_. She stares at her brother for a long moment and tries to ignore the fear in the pit of her stomach. 

* * *

About fifteen minutes later, Dean has parked in a quiet spot and the pair are perched on the hood of the car. Balanced on Scarlett's knee is her battered laptop. It’s slow and old, the peeling and faded stickers on the lid hinting at its age, but it does the job. At this time, the job is finding any EVP on her father’s voicemail. 

“_I can never go home_,” Scarlett mutters. “What are we thinking, ghost maybe?”

“Maybe,” Dean mumbles, not really sounding like he’s paying attention.

“Do you think the ghost is this big threat that dad is talking about? What ghost could be that big of a threat?”

“You never know,” he says. “We need to get going soon.”

“Where?” she asks, not taking her eyes of the laptop screen as she searches for anymore hidden messages.

“Stanford. It’ll probably take us about two days to get there.”

Not really processing his words, Scarlett’s reply is “What’s in Stanford?”

“Sam.”

That gets her attention.

“Sam?” she exclaims, her eyes snapping up to meet Dean’s. “Why do we need Sam?”

“Didn’t you hear dad? We’re all in danger, Red, and I’m assuming he means Sam too,” Dean says, before he slides himself off the hood and gets to his feet

She clenches her fists. _Sam_. Jesus, she hasn’t seen him since he left and she still doesn’t particularly want to see him now. Not after that _bullshit_ argument before he left. “B-but he didn’t mention Sam specifically! He’s probably fine in Stanford. I doubt he’ll come.”

“So we’re just going to leave him on his own and vulnerable?” Dean frowns at her.

It makes her feel about two feet tall. No, she’s not trying to be an asshole. She does love Sam, no matter how much of a dick he was before he left, and no, despite what Dean is suggesting, she’s not trying to get him killed. He would probably be safer at Stanford, wouldn’t he? As far as she knows, he’s been fine for two years.

And you know what? Maybe she’s still a little upset about him leaving. Maybe she's feeling a little vindictive. But that doesn't mean she wants him to get hurt.

“He’s been on his own for two years, Dean,” she snaps, nearly tripping over her words thanks to the pure frustration she felt. “I’m sure he can handle himself and after the way he and dad left things, I doubt he’ll be itching at the chance to jump in and save him.”

“Yeah, but dad’s never left a warning like this,” he says. “Now get in the car, Red.”

“But--“

Dean brings his attention back to her, leaning his hand against the hood near her. “Listen to me,” he says, his voice low and serious. “You think I’m not angry with him too? I am, but none of that matters. You heard dad, we are all in danger so, for now, we got to stow all our crap because you and I know if something happens to Sam and we could have done something about it…”

He trails off for a moment, leaving the pair to stare at each other for a long moment. Scarlett is the first to look away, clenching her jaw and feeling her shoulders sag.

Openly, she would only ever admit that she obeyed because it was an order. Deep down, under about a billion layers of anger and frustration, she does worry about Sam and what this threat means for them all. If something does happen to him and he gets hurt because she’s being a brat about it…

Scarlett stands with a sigh, closing the laptop and shoving it into her backpack. Wordlessly, she and Dean get back into the car, starting the journey to Stanford. 

* * *

“This is a terrible plan.”

“Love the optimism, Red, now shut up and keep an eye out.”

Scarlett rolls her eyes and folds her arms over her chest, keeping watch on the empty street while Dean picks the lock on Sam’s front door.

The neighbourhood Sam lives in is mostly populated by students from Stanford, judging by the people watching she and Dean had done from a diner that morning. Dean thought that was perfect – the only people out during the night would be idiots too drunk to notice them.

Scarlett still wonders why they couldn’t just call Sam or, you know, visit during the day. Like a normal person. They had arrived that morning after two days of driving across the country; they had plenty of time to see him that day, but _no._

Hell, they could just get into the car now and turn around. Sam wouldn’t want to see them –

The door opens with a click and pulls Scarlett from her thoughts. Dean lets out a self-satisfied little laugh and hops to his feet. “Still got it!”

It takes all her energy to not roll her eyes.

While Dean heads for the living room, Scarlett slips into the kitchen. Partially because she’s curious. There’s shoes near the door that are far too small for her brother’s clown feet, a purse thrown in the corner with the contents spilling out of it, and a couple of framed photos scattered around the room that display people she doesn’t recognise. Sam was never one for framed photos, mostly because their lifestyle didn’t really allow for it.

Maybe he’s changed in two years? She wants to know more, the high heels in the corner are making her curious.

Also she’s hungry. She hasn’t had anything to eat since she was at the diner hours ago, so Sam better have snacks.

The kitchen is tiny. There’s an open bag of chips of the counter that she grabs, shoving a handful into her mouth. What catches her eye are the polaroid pictures stuck up on a pin board. There’s a very pretty blonde recurring in a lot of these pictures. Some include her smiling at the camera, one arm slung around a blushing Sam’s shoulders. Another even features her kissing Sam’s cheek while he smiles sheepishly.

_Sammy’s got a girlfriend._

Along with those, some pictures feature Sam and the blonde smiling and posing with others, who she assumes are friends of theirs.

_Sammy has a whole life here. _

_THUD!_

Scarlett struggles to not drop the bag before she darts out the door. She stops in her tracks when she spots Dean pining Sam to the ground. “See this is why we should have called!” she exclaims.

“Red?” Sam says, when he notices her on the doorway, still pinned to the ground.

She waggles her fingers at him, her mouth too full of potato chips to answer.

Dean rolls his eyes and shoves Sam off him, hoping to his feet, before directing a “really?” in her direction.

“I was hungry! You were the one who wouldn’t stop at the gas station ten miles back, what’s a girl to do?” she exclaims.

“You got to stop thinking with your stomach.”

“Ha! Like that’ll ever happen.”

Sam is quiet for a long moment, apparently dumbfounded that his siblings would turn up in his apartment in the middle of the night with no warning. He’s not as lanky and his hair has been cut short since she last saw him – hell, it’s probably been a cut a few times since he left.

She hasn’t seen her brother for two years. It hits her like a blow to the chest.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” Sam says, snapping her out of her head.

“Looking for a beer,” Dean says. Scarlett responds by rattling the bag in his direction, trying to remain nonchalant. 

“Sam?”

The new voice grabs the trio’s attention, making them turn to face a _very_ pretty blonde. Like really, _really_ pretty. Like a friggin’ Victoria’s Secret model…

Scarlett suddenly finds herself very interested in one of Sam’s textbooks on the table beside her when she realises she’s been staring.

“Jess, hey,” Sam says. “Dean, Red, this is my girlfriend, Jess.”

“Wait, they’re your brother and sister?”

_Girlfriend?_ Holy shit, where did he find a girl like this?

Dean decides that after, you know, _breaking in_ this would be the perfect moment to saunter forward and turn on the charm. "You know, I love the Smurfs," he says, referring to the shirt Jess is wearing. "And I gotta say, you are completely out of my brother's league."

“Yeah, both brothers. Stop being creepy,” Scarlett says. _Yeah_ she might have been staring earlier but at least she hadn’t started flirting with her.

“I’m just being polite!” Dean exclaims.

“Polite, my ass! Ignore him,” Scarlett directs to Jess, who smiles slightly at her. It’s not completely sincere, but Scarlett doesn’t blame her. This is just uncomfortable for _everyone._

“Just trying to make conversation,” Dean mutters, before swinging his arm around Sam’s shoulders. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you, but me and Red got to borrow Sam for a minute. Important family business, you know?”

Sam shrugs off Dean’s arm and makes his way over to Jess. Scarlett frowns at the evident line in the sand being drawn. “No,” he says, “anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of her.”

She wonders if Sam has actually told Jess what their family does. This would be one hell of an introduction.

“Dad hasn’t been home in a few days,” Dean says, going with the safe option.

“Ok? So he’s working double overtime on a Miller time shift, he’ll stumble back home sooner or later,” Sam replies, evidently unimpressed. 

Scarlett snorts. “Not likely,” she mutters. The voicemail didn’t seem like her dad was dealing with anything normal.

Sam frowns at her. “What?”

“Ok, let’s rephrase that,” Scarlett says, “dad’s been on a hunting trip…”

“And he hasn’t been home in a few days,” Dean finishes.

What she doesn’t realise at that time, what she doesn’t realise for a _long_ time, is that with those words, _everything_ will change.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! This is actually a rewrite of a fic I wrote about four years ago and I wanted to bring it back for Supernatural's final season. Let me know what you think!


End file.
